Bread and Roses

Ken Loach’s Bread and Roses (2001) attempts to give the average American a different perspective on illegal immigration in the United States through a newly arrived immigrant named Maya. Although there were parts of the film where social critique was well founded and impactful, there were other sections that I found lacking in power. A specific scene that came to mind was one of the first incidences involving Maya when she arrives in the United States. Because Rosa cannot get the entire amount of money that is due to the smugglers who get Maya across the border, Maya is kept against her will by the two men. It is quickly forms into a situation where one of the smugglers attempts to become sexually involved with her. She manages to escape by outsmarting him and stealing his keys, and the scene ends with the smuggler yelling out of the window as Maya waves at him (with his stolen boots as well).

I thought that the scene was done firstly too quickly, and secondly in too lighthearted of a fashion. To be clear on the latter statement, I am not presuming that the director treated the situation of rape lightly, which was not the case. But, to a certain degree, it felt like the scene started and ended far too quickly. It lacked a certain amount of sincerity that could have escalated the tension in the moment to a much higher degree. I can only think of Tarantino when I talk of a situation like this, because it has some very similar characteristics to the scenes Tarantino likes including in his films. The difference in editing, camera placement, and the overall “feel” of the scene underwhelms what I thought could have been the best scene in the film.

A Beautiful Mind

Ron Howard’s A Beautiful Mind (2001) very interestingly, and entertainingly, depicts John Nash’s (Russell Crowe) encounter and life long struggle with Schizophrenia. As a viewer, looking back at the film, I became very interested in the process of introducing the mental illness to the audience. From a director’s viewpoint, there are two ways to introduce this mentality. Does one choose to view Nash from the outside, and see his actions from the perspective of someone else? Or does one choose to view everything from Nash’s perspective? Without a doubt, the second option seems to be much more interesting, and attempts to paint a picture of what it is like to live with such a mental illness. So, we experience the start of the illness as Nash does, without recognition of its arrival. We meet his roommate Charles (Paul Bettany), whom we assume to be very real for a good portion of the film.

This friendship and association of family with Charles is integral to getting the audience to feel similarly to Nash when the truth is revealed. When we finally learn that Charles is not real, that he is a figment of Nash’s mind, we want to counter it just as much as Nash does. We hope that there is a misunderstanding, that there is some way that Charles didn’t show up in Princeton’s record books. It gives the audience the chance to experience what they know to be true to be turned upside down. That magical ability of film gives audience members a closer experience to what Nash experiences, leaving them to sympathize with him, as well as question their own worlds once they exit the theater.

Tai Chi, a Way of Life

After seeing The Professor: Tai Chi’s Journey West, I was surprised to learn about the divide amongst the Chinese population in New York City concerning teaching Americans Tai Chi. During the film, when the Professor Cheng Man-Ching returned to Taiwan, the Tai Chi studio was shut down after the Chinese community in the area decided to prohibit Americans from learning. It gave an aspect that I was unfamiliar with, as in today’s society there are dozens upon dozens of martial arts institutions in the United States, many of which now are Tai Chi based. Yet, back in the turbulent 60’s, there was a certain amount of a restricted nature to the spread of Chinese culture.

Another aspect of the film that I found interesting was the concept of Tai Chi itself as something other than a martial art. From everything I’ve heard about Tai Chi, I assumed that it was based on a combative nature. It was surprising to learn of the different uses of Tai Chi for health purposes, as well as just being a way of life. I certainly did not expect brush strokes or drawing lines to be a part of a martial art, but when placed in context with the rest of Cheng Man-Ching’s program, it began to make sense. It was also amazing to learn of the routines that members would go through everyday, especially when one interviewee spoke of doing a hand motion over and over again for an entire session with the Professor. Overall, the film has definitely sparked my interest in not only martial arts, but Tai Chi in particular.

Dr. Strangelove, A Satiric Masterpiece

Of all the films present in Stanley Kubrick’s vast cinematic reservoir, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) is perhaps the masterpiece of satiric cinematic technique, and is demonstrative of Kubrick’s chameleon-like directorial abilities. The film satirizes with charm and grace, granting laughs and chuckles even to a young audience watching it 50 years after its creation. However, its masterful satiric ability is how its laughs are simultaneously terrifying in nature. In the scene where Group Capt. Lionel Mandrake (Peter Sellers) desperately attempts to phone the President of the United States from a phone booth, we laugh as he is being stalled by being short a few coins. Yet, at the same time, we are haunted by the idea that the very system we abide by is halting the savior of humanity, for a mere 20 cents. This adds to the terrifying idea that the current political system of the world is so dangerously unbalanced that not only is the destruction of the world due to one man’s choice, but that its savior is a relatively random person begging for change at a phone booth. It gives a sense of powerlessness through this demonstration, as the top political and military officials of the world essentially helplessly watch and pray that a miracle allows them to stop world destruction. To add to this frustration for the audience, neither country with nuclear weapons even wants this to happen. In other words, even if the countries of the world somehow navigate a path to peace, there is still a chance that it could all blow up for essentially no reason.

More than anything else, this contrast between the comedic and the horrific demonstrates Kubrick’s comedic mastery. No joke in the film is baseless humor designed to get a quick laugh before going back to the action of saving the world. Each comedic sketch, even if seemingly unrelated, delves deep into the problems associated with human psychology, patriarchal power (both social and political), mob mentality, and how it all puts the safety of the world in danger. Even the comedic one-liner that ends the phone booth scene demonstrates this. As Capt. Lionel Mandrake demands Col. ‘Bat’ Guano (Keenan Wynn) to shoot the lock of a Coca-Cola machine to get spare change for his phone call, Guano says, “But if you don’t get the President of the United States on that phone, you know what’s going to happen to you? You’re gonna have to answer to the Coca-Cola company.” Its comedy arises from the expectation of some physical threat being realized as a simple statement of fact. Yet, it is still unnerving, as the quote demonstrates the resistance to breaking the machine because it is private property, even though the world may be destroyed without doing so. It suddenly is more important to follow the law when it comes to a soda machine than saving the world from nuclear destruction.

The film for this reason has as much impact today as it did back when it was released, specifically because our society is still dealing with these same problems. Just as Kubrick seemed to demonstrate in his film, it seems humanity, and specifically men in power, haven’t changed much at all since the dawn of civilization.

Power in Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome

The third installment in the Mad Max franchise, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985) interestingly discusses the transition of power in Bartertown through the two main political characters The Master (Angelo Rossitto) and Auntie Entity (Tina Turner). In the beginning of the film, The Master is portrayed to be more or less the antagonist (although one never really trusts Auntie Entity). We see him act as a dictator, threatening to take power away from Bartertown unless he always gets what he wants. Yet, the moment Blaster (Paul Larsson) is unmasked, revealing he is developmentally disabled, The Master begs to spare him. Immediately the power dynamic shifts, and as soon as Auntie Entity has control again, she unfairly banishes Max from Bartertown.

I found the encounter to be a description of the greed for power. It didn’t seem to matter who was in control, as they always focused on the same desires of maintaining that power and basking in its glory. The stated reasons for gaining this power back can be often built upon moral ideals, such as taking a cruel dictator out of power. Yet the true motive is always ulterior, usually of a selfish and greedy nature. In a sense it makes the character of Max (Mel Gibson) all the more intriguing. Although his lack of connection to others may make him a loner, his loneliness is in itself a representation of his purity. He is unconnected to the corruption and savagery that accompanies the new settlements of a post-apocalyptic world, and therefore is able to aid those who are subject to its prejudices and horrors. The film in this way demonstrates the capacity for one person to tackle some of the problems of grandiose political machines.

Rule of Law

Before watching the film City of God (2002), I had known very little about the slums of Rio de Janeiro. However, what surprised me even more than the conditions of living was the lack of police forces in the City of God. The ability for crime and injustice to prosper was limitless, and as a result a lot of people suffered from any strong foundation of law and order. So, during the point of the film when Lil’Zé started to take over a majority of the City of God, it became very interesting to see a sort of make-shift hierarchy transform the community as a result of the actions of a murderer. Crimes of rape, theft, murder, and other serious crimes were harshly punished, and to some degree, for a time, order was reached.

This to me is a very interesting demonstration of a character like Lil’Zé. A murderer with a psychopathic personality, it would be easy for filmmakers to simply show him as pure absolute evil. Yet, there are glimpses of humanity in him. The death of Benny causes extreme pain to a man who feels no emotion when taking away the lives of others. He also bans the crimes that he himself commits, somehow determining that its incorrect for others to steal, rape, or murder, while excluding himself from those constructs. The audience will definitely not empathize with Lil’Zé, in fact, on the contrary. There is no ambiguity in the matter that questions whether he is a good person or not, he most certainly isn’t. But the very small contradictions that do occur make Lil’Zé seem like he was a real person. In that essence, it was extremely interesting to watch the actions and motivations behind Lil’Zé, as well as disturbing.

Red or Blue?

Although I have watched The Matrix (1999) multiple times, as with any good movie (in my opinion) there is always more to be seen or analyzed with each viewing. One characteristic of the film that I found very interesting was the concept of the red and blue pill and the perspective the film took on heroism. For those who are unaware of the red and blue pill, taking the red pill will bring you out of the matrix, while the blue pill will sedate you and bring everything back to “normal”. The film paints the heroic option as choosing to fight for the real, to bring oneself out of the matrix, and fight the evil army of machines enslaving humanity.

Yet, the ultimate question starts to discuss the difference between the world of the matrix, and the world as it really was in 1999. Most people can agree that in order to live in society, in the real world, we are required to work. Our basic necessities are fulfilled by helping the machine of society operate, through a multitude of different jobs and responsibilities. But, even in a first world country like the United States, a vast majority of people are forced to worked for small amounts while the few in power reap the profits. Is working 10-12 hours everyday, without vacation days, without health insurance, without other benefits or retirement plans freedom? Is the system that our country operates upon that different from the world of the matrix?

Of course, the main difference is not how the world operates, but how machines are taking advantage of all human lifeforms and using their body heat for energy (which by the way wouldn’t work, but who cares). It seems that even though the world and the experience of living in the matrix is mostly the same, and probably even safer in the Matrix (there’s no chance of world destruction, nuclear war, pandemics, or giant asteroids), simply the idea that the world isn’t real makes people want to escape.

Therefore the choice of the red pill is something more than simply escaping the matrix, it is a comment on the human disposition to want to have control of one’s destiny. People seem to rather live in a cruel world where they know their decisions can inflict real outcomes than live in a false reality where they know their actions cause no consequence. Ultimately, we as a species want to mean something, it isn’t just about our comfort and happiness, but our consequence.

They Call Me Muslim; a comment on human ignorance

Flora’s Friday Film They Call Me Muslim contained a documentary style that called attention to the problems associated with social enforcement in both Paris and Tehran. In Paris, a teenage girl named Samah is forced to take off her hijab while in public school. Our protagonist in Tehran, code-named “K”, is a woman forced to do the opposite, wear her hijab at all times in public places. The film discusses with each side the problems associated with these different types of enforcement, and show the toll taken upon the persons and their families.

More than anything else that caught my attention through the film was the ability for two completely different governments that were forcing opposite policies on their populations to accomplish the same thing. The fact that both governments enacted policies that, in a very one-sided manner, condemned other ways of life in order to eliminate differences amongst their populations surprises me. Regardless of opinions associated with what may or may not be the correct way of doing things, in this case in concern with the question should women wear hijabs, there is a much more fundamental question of human decency being left out. How does any government have the right to enforce a way of life on its peoples? Forcing women to either remove or wear hijabs commits the same act, as forcing our opinions on others in most cases of such severity is nothing less than tyrannical. The film dances with this concept over and over again, using both protagonists from both cities to exemplify how the argument is not at all about the hijab, but the question of who has the right to determine who wears it and who does not.

Politics of an Earlier Time

The talk hosted by Ms. Keating brought up some interesting topics involving early 20th century politics in New York State specifically amongst women. One of the most memorable parts of the discussion was when Ms. Keating explained letters that were sent out to a large percentage of the female population in New York, prompting a response of thousands of letters in return. Read aloud, one of the letters depicted an overwhelming gratefulness for being listened to, for feeling like someone cared about their opinions, how they were doing, and what they had to say. On one hand, the difference between modern times and then amazed me, as the amount of connection with the outside world was so much lower. Still, there is still the politically recurring cry of wanting to be listened to that is still ever-so present in today’s world.

From that specific part of the talk, I was amazed on how similar the population is even when separated by a century. More than anything, it illustrated the importance of how desperately people want to be listened to, and how much they want their opinions to be considered important. Social media would be a great piece of evidence for that topic, with Facebook especially becoming a battleground of political opinions that everyone continuously tries to appropriate in order to feel listened to. The lecture made me wonder how much more information of the past would be useful in the present.